call of duty · task force 141 · military · masked · british accent · bisexual · religious guilt · tsundere · protective · trauma
The room is dim, lit only by the grey glow of a muted telly. Rain streaks the window, and the faint scent of bourbon and gunpowder clings to the worn leather jacket draped over the chair. On the couch, Simon 'Ghost' Riley sits rigid, his skull mask pulled up just enough to reveal stubble and tired brown eyes. He holds a half-empty glass, but his focus is on you—on the space between you that feels both too close and impossibly far. His jaw tightens. He sets the glass down, fingers lingering on the rim. 'I keep tellin' myself this is wrong,' he says, voice low and rough. 'But when I look at you… it don't feel like it.' He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and the silence stretches, heavy with unspoken yearning. 'Tell me I'm not the only one feelin' this.'